


If You Love Something

by skellyjingles



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Canon Compliant, Gen, M/M, Nothing too bad but they do get tipsy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Slow Burn, Time Skips, Yaku Morisuke is oblivious as hell, contains spoilers for time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25758904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skellyjingles/pseuds/skellyjingles
Summary: The first time they met, Yuu was gazing intently at his back, trying to place the feeling that he got when he saw Nekoma’s number 3 cleanly receive Asahi’s spike.It didn't have to be awkward, he wasn’t 17 anymore and his crush on Yaku had been gone for nearly nine years now. Tonight was just a chance encounter between old acquaintances in a foreign land.Who knows? Maybe he could start a proper friendship now that they could actually talk to each other.
Relationships: Nishinoya Yuu & Karasuno Volleyball Club, Nishinoya Yuu/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 19
Kudos: 30





	1. See You (again)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a severe lack in Timeskip!Yakunoya content and I'm here to make a contribution. That being said though, this is my first fic so feedback + critiques are greatly appreciated! Do not hesitate to tell me if I make a mistake in grammar or if the dialogue feels clunky. Enjoy!
> 
> (P.S. An izakaya is like a Japanese pub)

Yuu shivered against his coat. His warm breath came out in thick puffs of soft white, visible in the warm glow of Ekaterinburg’s evening lights. Like most of his adventures, he didn’t give much thought about where he went next, an approach that came back to bite him when he decided to go to Russia in winter to visit the obelisk that marked the Eurasian border. He had heard about it from a fellow traveller and figured that he was close enough to make the trip anyway.

The early novelty of having one foot in Europe and the other in Asia began to wear thin as he looked for a hotel to stay in, the cold biting into his bones. The idea of stepping into a shop or something to warm up came to mind and he chastised himself for not thinking of it sooner. He turned back, retracing his steps, vaguely remembering a cozy-looking establishment that he passed on the way.

“Yuu?”

It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it, although he didn’t have to wait long to figure out who it belonged to. His eyes focused on the figure that was standing a few feet away from him. He was, obviously, a bit older, but he was undoubtedly a familiar face that Yuu hadn't seen in a while.

“Morisuke-kun?”

“Yep.” He affirmed with a grin. “Haven’t seen or heard from you in a long time, what brings you here?”

“Split-second decision gone wrong, I guess?” he said with a grimace, his cold-flushed cheeks turned redder from embarrassment.

The other man snickered. “Oh? I’d love to hear it.”

“It’s nothing, really.” Yuu said abruptly, not wanting to humiliate himself any further.

A heavy silence grew between them. Yaku looked at him expectantly, but his tongue was glued to the bottom of his mouth. To distract from the growing discomfort, he busied himself with having a proper look at the person in front of him.

Yaku Morisuke had grown a bit more since highschool. Even if he didn’t, Yuu would still have been shorter, standing at 164.1 cm (yes, the 0.1 is important). Despite the overcoat, he seemed to have gained a bit of muscle as well. The street lights reflected softly on the locks of light brown hair that peeked out from his thick wool cap and in the chocolate brown of his eyes.

Eyes that ultimately looked away, grown tired of the silence.

“Well,” Yaku began slowly, “I was planning on going out somewhere for dinner. Do you want to join me and catch up there?”

Yuu nodded in response, forcing himself to make a noise that sounded affirmative.

A small smile makes its way to the other’s face.

“Follow me, then.”

Trailing behind him, Yuu stared, surprised at how Yaku’s simple statement made the quiet more comfortable, although he shouldn’t have been. Yaku always gave off this air of certainty, of reliability, and he was observant enough to know that Yuu needed some time to process the sudden nature of his arrival. He never seemed to know how to handle himself whenever the older boy was around. He’s not used to that feeling, and the unfamiliarity feeds into it even further.

The first time they met, Yuu was also gazing intently at his back, trying to place the feeling that he got when he saw Nekoma’s number 3 cleanly receive Asahi’s spike. Suga was talking to said person of interest while glancing at his own team’s libero with a look of concern. He thought he overheard Suga say something along the lines of “…ignore him…he’ll go away, eventually… ”.

This jolted something in his mind, made him want to get the words out as soon as possible, even if the recipient was facing away from him.

“You’re really, really good at receiving, number 3. I’ve never seen anyone who could dig our ace’s hits so consistently. Everybody on your whole team is great at defense. To hold the position of starting libero on a team like that… I think that’s amazing.”

Number 3, whose name he would later find out was Yaku Morisuke, was looking at him now.

Yuu felt his heart being squeezed.

He needed to get out quick, so he pushed out the rest of the words as swiftly as he could.

“Someday, I’m gonna be just as good! No, better! Nowexcuseme, GOODBYE!”

He sped off as soon as the last word left his mouth.

Suga called after him but he was too focused on getting his heart to stop racing to care.

Yaku just stood there.

They’ve had some casual conversations since then, but Yuu could never handle the strange feeling for too long, choosing to slip out slowly and direct his own attention towards his team, or his crush on Shimizu Kiyoko.

As if to make up for their lacking interactions, their moments on court teemed with an exhilarating energy that left him feeling tingly and light in the moments after and whenever he thought about it.

When Shouyou was worried about Nekoma failing to advance at the Tokyo qualifiers tournament, Yuu was quick to reassure him, telling him that Nekoma had Yaku, so he shouldn’t worry. Shouyou admittedly told him that Yaku didn’t really leave much of an impression on him, to which he confidently responded, “Guys who are great at defense, and I mean truly great, aren’t necessarily gonna be the flashiest guys on the court!”

And yet.

His heart jumped with every ‘thwack!’ and ‘bmp’ that the ball made when it bounced off of the arms of the opposing libero. He felt it in his throat as the ball soared up and he felt it in his stomach when the ball plummeted down, a perfect arc.

Not for the first time, he wished that people paid more attention to the defense. Not just the miracle saves, though they were amazing, but all the other things too.

Like how Yaku’s presence intimidated his enemy spikers into dinking or running away, how he worked with the blockers to make the spikers think that they found an opening, only for them to realize too late that he was waiting and ready to pounce.

Yuu wanted everyone to know how amazing that was.

Most of all, he hoped Yaku knew how amazing he really was.

He wanted him to know that his efforts and skills were being appreciated by people outside of Nekoma.

On court, there was never the time for it. Even if there was, the right words weren’t there either. There was only the hope that Yuu’s starry eyes and occasional exclamations reached him, that the other libero could feel him saying,

_‘hey, I see you.’_

Sometimes, he swore that he could feel a similar excitement coming from his Nekoma counterpart as well. His suspicions were confirmed when he managed to spectacularly pull off a mid-air set.

Across the net, Yaku swapped in and was pointing straight at him.

“Yuu! You get better every time I see ya!”

He used his given name.

_‘I see you, too.’_

All this time that Yuu spent on figuring out how to let him know, and Yaku just turns it around on him effortlessly.

He had let out a strangled noise out of surprise, but he managed to say something back.

“Thanks a bunch, Morisuke-kun!”

Words are hard.

At the end of their final match, they quietly exchanged a resolute and firm handshake, hoping that it expressed everything unsaid.

That was the last time that they saw each other.

This was the third years’ last chance after all.

Unlike what some may believe, Nishinoya Yuu wasn’t stupid. He eventually realized that his feelings for Yaku were more of a romantic sort instead of strong appreciation for his volleyball skills, even if that realization came to him in his third year, after the other boy graduated.

It came when Ryuu was teasing him about how he was gonna cope with his crushes gone.

“Crushes? Ryuu, you know I only had eyes for Kiyoko-san!” he replied, affronted.

Ryuu scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me with the way that you looked and talked about Yaku-san!” he continued. “I remembered thinking, ‘Yaku-san’s gotta be a real big man to get that kind of praise out of Noya-san’. Though, if you say so…”

Through further inspection, the mixture of nervousness and the giddiness when he was around, the intent focus that he always placed on him, getting flustered, these were signs that were associated with having a crush. Maybe it just went unnoticed because it felt a little different to his crush on Shimizu. He was certainly more bold when it came to the latter.

Huh.

Guess he liked girls and boys.

Ryuu was quick to voice his support, the rest followed soon after and it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Years passed, and he met and fell for other people, only remembering Yaku as the first boy he fell for, and nothing more.

“This is the place.”

Yaku opened the door and Yuu felt like he was gonna fall asleep from the sheer warmth that enveloped him as soon as he walked in.

It was an _izakaya_ , to his pleasant surprise.

There was an area covered in tatami mats with low tables, along with another that held a more western set-up of tables and chairs. It wasn’t full, so he didn’t expect that they would be given a 2-hour time limit.

A server greeted them at the entrance.

“Welcome! Which area would you like to sit in for tonight?”

“Tatami area, please!” they both said in unison, letting out a surprised laugh when they noticed.

A sense of relief came over him. It didn’t have to be awkward, Yuu realized, he wasn’t 17 anymore and his crush on Yaku had been gone for nearly nine years now. Tonight was just a chance encounter between old acquaintances in a foreign land.

Who knows? Maybe he could start a proper friendship now that they could actually talk to each other.

After they settled at their table and ordered some beer, they began to shrug off some of their outerwear to account for the change in temperature. When Yaku took off his cap, Yuu noticed that his hair had gotten longer compared to the cropped style that he sported back in high school. It looked like it had been slicked back, although now several strands fell on his forehead.

“Your hair looks nice.”

Yaku blinked.

Then he snickered.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s just that you were so quiet the whole walk here, but then the two times that you decided to speak up were to say the same thing I did and to compliment my hat hair.”

Yuu made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I was just unprepared, is all.”

Then he paused.

“Sorry for coming across a bit _cold_.”

“Ha! Shut up!” Yaku retorted, no actual venom behind it.

“I thought you wanted me to talk?”

“Not if you’re gonna be that bad at it!”

Their shoulders shook mirthfully, eventually settling down when the server came to give them their beers and take the rest of their orders (some more of the edamame appetisers that were already on the table, grilled meat skewers, fried chicken and a bottle of sake).

The two men sat quietly, sipping on their beer and chewing their edamame until Yuu spoke up.

“So, what brings you to Russia, Morisuke-kun?”

For some reason, Yaku smiled behind his beer. “Work, mostly.”

“...and where do you work?”

His smile turned into a full grin. “I’m the starting libero for Tigr Ekaterinburg.”

Yuu’s eyes widened.

“You mean, like IN the Russian Super League?”

“Yep.”

“DUDE, that’s amazing!!!”

Yaku winced at the volume and gave apologetic glances to those that looked at their direction, but he seemed pleased with his reaction.

“Yeah, studied languages at university while playing for the school team, played for VC Kanagawa with Yamamoto for two years after, then I decided to try my luck at foreign leagues, now here I am. Nothing much, really,” he summarised, jokingly humble, yet obviously proud.

“You’ve gotten a hundred times more awesome since highschool, huh?” Yuu marveled, unrestrained admiration apparent in his words.

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m not complaining,” Yaku responded, cheeks slightly pink, “how about _Yuu_?”

He chuckled. “Well...”

“After high school, I went straight to work, taking all sorts of jobs all over the place. When I figured I collected enough money, I left Japan at 21 to just travel as far and as long as it could take me, seeing new things and trying new stuff!”

The air was once again graced with Yaku’s delighted laughter.

“Geez, Yuu. You’re really something else!”

“Wait.” His cheerful expression quickly turned to one of curiosity and concern. “You’re turning 26, aren’t you? How have you managed to not run out of money yet?”

As soon as the question left his mouth, both of them felt the atmosphere dampen, if only slightly.

“Well, I did some cash-on-hand work here and there whenever I felt that funds were getting low and that was fine for a while.” He took in a deep breath. “Then I got a call from Japan. It was my grandpa. He was really sick, and it wouldn’t get better.”

His fingers absentmindedly ran back and forth the tatami mat, the little bumps grounded him, gave him something to focus on.

“I went back to Japan to spend as much time as I could with him. He died a few months ago.”

He exhaled slowly.

“He left everything to me, told me to keep having adventures, even after he was gone, because–” he thought back to the words his grandfather told him many times before– “passing up the chance to learn and experience new things is just a big, fat waste.”

Eyes still averted, staring at the floor, he continued.

“Still had some stuff to sort out afterwards, so I only started travelling again a little more than a month ago,” he sipped his beer, “now I’m here.”

Across from him, Yaku’s eyes were wide with worry.

“Shit, man, sorry. You don’t have to answer a question if it makes you uncomfortable.”

A dull ‘thunk’ on the table interrupted them.

The server apologized for the delay as she placed a bottle of sake and a bowl of edamame before them. They assured her that it was no trouble.

Thoughtfully, Yuu placed another pod between his teeth, slid it away to squeeze out the beans inside, and chewed.

“It’s more like I feel guilty about bringing it up in this kind of setting,” he continued, “It’s still not great to think about, but I’ve had time. Just been itching to get back to travelling and make him proud, really.”

That wasn’t quite the whole truth, though. His grandfather helped his single mother in raising him, then raised him on his own after a car accident took his mother away when he was 12.

Nishinoya Mineo was, in one word, intense.

Silly as it was, the idea that his grandfather would die never crossed his mind.

He turned Yuu, a shy boy who was scared of everything, into an outgoing individual who can adapt to whatever life can throw at him.

Yuu refused to let his passing undo the hard work that his grandfather had done.

That said, the first month was horrible.

Having to stay at that empty house, a house that always used to be alight with Mineo’s presence or the after-images of his last stay, knowing that his grandfather wanted him to travel, but trapped with figuring out the funeral arrangements and later, mandatory legal processes for his will…

Yuu would’ve chewed his own arm off if it meant that he could’ve gotten out of it sooner.

Who knows what would’ve happened if it weren’t for the friends he made at Karasuno.

Ryuu stayed over frequently, only going home when his work schedule couldn’t allow for him to remain. Kiyoko did too, but less so, not wanting to impose even when Yuu assured her that it was fine. Seeing Ryuu’s loud love for Kiyoko, despite being married to her for four years now, always made his heart feel a little less heavy.

Daichi would always turn up on Thursday afternoons with a paper bag full of pork buns in tow. Suga visited on Fridays and regaled him over dinner with stories about what his students did that week. Asahi, since he lived in Tokyo, called him every few days, even managing to make a handful of physical visits.

Once in a while, whenever Chikara could find the free time, they would grab a drink at an _izakaya_ with Ryuu, Kazuhito and Hisashi. Funnily enough, they bumped into Yachi, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima a couple of times as well.

Needless to say, he bounced back soon enough.

“Are you using it now?”

Yaku’s question pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Using what now?”

“The money you inherited,” Yaku clarified, a serious expression on his face.

“Yes?” He answered, unsure of where this was going.

“No, you’re not.”

Okay, now he was even more confused.

This must have been apparent on his face, since Yaku opened his mouth to explain further. “I’ll take care of any travel expenses you have for the week. Just let me know where you’re staying and for how long.”

“What? Why?!”

“If you die penniless and starving in a faraway country, at least my conscience would be eased knowing I did what I could to help your grandfather’s dying wish,” he explained matter-of-factly.

Now, Yuu couldn’t help it if he was a little offended by that.

He knew Yaku, dubbed “Team Mom” by Nekoma, had an aggressively caring nature. He just didn’t know it was that strong.

As far as he knew, the two of them have only played as liberos, but this felt more like a joust over the net. Both on opposite sides, trying to push the ball to the other’s side and win.

“I can handle myself just fine.” the manner that he spoke was decidedly pointed. “I travelled for more than 3 years before I went back.”

He pushed.

“Since the goal was ‘to try new things’, you’d probably steer away from places you’ve gone before,” he shrugged, “cash-on-hand jobs might not be that easy to find when you get there, not to mention exchange rates.”

Yaku pushed back.

The ball slipped past Yuu’s grip.

‘thunk’

“There you go. Grilled meat skewers and fried chicken!” the server announced with a smile, “If you guys need anything else, don’t hesitate to press that red button on the table. Enjoy!”

They thanked him, then thanked those who prepared the food, and began to dig in.

“Fine,” Yuu continued in-between bites, “but it won’t be a week. Three days, tops.”

A frown appeared on the libero’s face, but Yuu’s gaze remained steady, unwavering.

“Fair enough,” he conceded, “I’ll be leaving for Japan in three days to prepare for the Olympics anyway, so it works out.”

“That settles that then,” he concluded with a mouth full of grilled meat.

Wait.

He leaned over the table.

“Hold on! You’re playing in the Olympics?? Hell, you’re in the Japan National Team?!”

A hand clamped over his mouth.

Yaku’s.

“Are you always this loud?” he hissed, his expression was stern yet he seemed to be fighting off a smile, “sit back down and I’ll tell you.”

Once he did so, Yaku continued. “There’s not really that much to say, I’ve been invited to the national team roster for the past 3 years, 2-ish really, considering that most tournaments were cancelled last year.” He trailed off at that last bit, yet picked up soon enough. “Still, it’s an honour to be chosen for the Olympics. In other international tournaments, the maximum number of team members is twenty, but for this one, it’s twelve. I’m glad I was one of them.”

An expression of realization appeared on his face.

“That reminds me, this is Hinata’s first time playing for the national team, right? Time flies fast. He’s not exactly Shrimpy anymore,” he smiled a little wryly at that last part.

Yuu guffawed.

“You better be ready. Shouyou’s a riot! Did you know about the time he snuck himself into an invite-only training camp?”

The rest of their dinner flowed by with easy chatter. They left with full bellies, bodies warm from the booze, but moderately sobered by the wintry cold of the outside.

Fallen snow crunched softly under their feet as they pushed onwards. They had walked a considerable distance from the _izakaya_ , before Yaku halted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait, where are you staying? I better walk you there.”

Ah. So that was what he forgot to do.

Now what? He couldn’t exactly just go from one place of lodging to another to check if they had any openings, Yaku would probably insist on accompanying him until they found one. It was already pretty late.

The older boy was waiting for his response, determined eyes letting him know that he wouldn’t get away without a proper answer. It reminded him of the look that the old Nekoma libero would give the ball during a match. It was really something else.

Might just be the alcohol in his system, but in that moment the main thing on his mind was that he really wanted to get to know Yaku better.

“I didn’t prepare anything. Can I just crash at your place?”

The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth before he could process what they were.

Well, that was unintentional, but he couldn’t really bring himself to backpedal in his state, so he decided to just march right on ahead.

“You must have a decent-sized place with how much you play,” he added, “plus, if you insist on paying for everything, I wanna spend as little as possible.”

Yaku narrowed his eyes and chewed on his lip thoughtfully, an expression that looked even cuter with his flushed cheeks. Yuu tried not to dwell on this thought too much. The other boy was a genuinely awesome person that he wanted to befriend and the alcohol-induced revival of old feelings was not getting in the way of that.

Said boy chortled and patted Yuu’s shoulder.

“Nice play, I can respect that.” He gave a nod of approval. “You can stay in the spare room. Glad to have ya!”

Caught off-guard by the reaction he got, Yuu opened his mouth then closed it. He’d seen more facets of the other’s personality that night than he had seen in what's effectively been a month’s worth of matches and training in high school.

Seeing Yaku like this was new, and far be it for him to turn down the opportunity to experience new things.

Staying over was a good choice.

The warmth that bloomed in his chest at the sound of his new friend’s laughter seemed to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The chapters will alternate between Nishinoya and Yaku's perspectives. Chapters in Noya's perspective will address him by his given name and address Yaku by his family name. Chapters in Yaku's perspective will address him by his given name and address Nishinoya by his family name.
> 
> 2\. I called Yaku's team Tigr Ekaterinburg because I think it makes more sense than VIZ translating チーグル (chiiguru) to Cheegle. It seems more plausible that Furudate was referring to the Russian word for 'tiger' instead of a word that doesn't seem to have a proper Russian or English equivalent. 
> 
> 3\. Due to its proximity to the Eurasian border, Ekaterinburg has a fair bit of Japanese establishments, which is why they were able to go to an izakaya. Also Yaku wasn't planning to go there initially, he just changed it so that they can catch up in a more casual environment.
> 
> 4\. Sorry I killed off Noya's grandpa, but seriously, how the heck could he have gotten the money to travel for so long? I had to root him in Japan for a bit.
> 
> 5\. Since the Olympics were postponed til 2021 in-canon, I do think that the pandemic also happened over there, but I'm choosing to believe that their world is more put-together and it only lasted for a few months, tops.
> 
> I'll try to update weekly or bi-weekly so I'll see you all until then!
> 
> Feel free to talk to me at Tumblr + Twitter @skellyjingles


	2. A Good "Different"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something about Nishinoya that he couldn’t quite separate from volleyball. Memories of bruise-littered limbs similar to his, sharp eyes and reflexes that led to miracle saves, and the control he exhibited from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, no doubt a part of the Monster Generation that Morisuke and the rest of the current Olympic national team belonged in. Yet despite it all, he picks the globe instead of the volleyball court, becoming a monster-turned-human of sorts.
> 
> [the boys go for a stroll and Nishinoya almost dies]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay (even though I said it would update last week)! My outline for this chapter was fairly loose, so I ended up writing more than expected to make the gap between the points more coherent. 
> 
> This one's nearly 50% longer than the first one though so I hope that makes up for it!
> 
> (as always, feedback + criticism are appreciated)

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised.

He knew a handful of people who traveled and lived outside of Japan after high school, it wasn’t that unusual. Nishinoya did strike him as the type to do so, he even had a travel backpack and everything.

Then again, he hadn’t seen him in nine years, so maybe he was allowed to be a little surprised, at least.

Clad in a bright orange parka that stood out in the muted colors of its surroundings, Morisuke found his eyes drawn to the distant figure before he even recognized it. 

When the figure turned back abruptly and walked towards his direction, although not registering him, he caught sight of a blonde tuft of hair, jutting out from underneath their hood. Following it downwards, he finds a familiar pair of piercing eyes, irises the color of molten bronze.

A long time had passed, it was quite possible that he could’ve gotten it wrong, but he figured it was worth a shot and called out.

“Yuu?”

The man halted, then looked around for the source of the sound and spotted him, a look of recognition on his features.

“Morisuke-kun?”

Morisuke swallowed down a sigh of relief at the fact that he wasn’t wrong. Despite growing accustomed to life in Russia, running into someone from home, even an acquaintance, gave him a surge of delight. He smiled, letting the feeling shine through as he always did.

“Yep,” he answered, “haven’t seen or heard from you in a long time, what brings you here?”

The expression on Nishinoya’s face turned bashful.

“Split-second decision gone wrong, I guess?”

He couldn’t help but snicker at that. The contrast between the silent and steady guardian he saw on court and the eccentric personality outside of it was a concept that he wasn’t really able to reconcile in his head. 

“Oh? I’d love to hear it,” he prompted, wanting to see more glimpses of the other boy’s off-court self.

“It’s nothing, really.” Nishinoya quickly replied, shooting down the thought as soon as it left Morisuke’s mouth.

He waited on the off-chance that there would be further elaboration, though it didn’t seem like it was coming.

Across from him, Nishinoya stared intensely, silent and still, as if he was trying to figure out how to receive him. 

It was very reminiscent of their first meeting. He couldn’t help but feel an odd sense of déjà vu.

Maybe, like before, his acquaintance just needed some time to process, though he’d rather not spend that duration having a silent staring contest in the cold. So he looked away and started to speak to disrupt the quiet.

“Well, I was planning on going out somewhere for dinner. Do you want to join me and catch up there?”

Having received an affirmative nod, Morisuke smiled reassuringly.

“Follow me, then.”

The shorter man did so, though he maintained a distance of a few steps behind him. Morisuke paid it no mind, but he couldn’t seem to shake off the prickling feeling on his back from the heat in Nishinoya’s gaze.

* * *

Due to his new companion, Morisuke decided to alter his dinner plans, opting to go for the _izakaya_ instead of the restaurant as intended. 

He was fairly good with directions and, despite not being an establishment he visited frequently, soon enough, he found himself at the store front. The amber light of the decorative paper lanterns glowed invitingly.

Sparing a glance at his companion, he saw that Nishinoya’s eyebrows were still furrowed and his stare distant. 

“This is the place,” he enunciated clearly, hoping to cut through the other boy’s thoughts and draw his attention.

It appeared to work and the other boy’s eyes focused, first on him, then at the door.

Morisuke opened it, already feeling the inviting warmth on his skin.

* * *

Despite the slow start, he found Nishinoya’s company to be quite enjoyable. Ever since they arrived at the _izakaya_ , the dark-haired boy had transformed from stiff and awkward to vibrant and enthusiastic, albeit a bit loud.

Which made it more jarring when he asked about travel costs and noticed the way that the booming voice went quiet.

In a significantly subdued manner, Nishinoya told him about his grandfather, the circumstances that led to his death, and the aftermath. 

His blood went cold, the guilt of bringing up a painful memory gnawed at his gut. Nishinoya assured him that it was fine, although the suffocating silence that followed suggested otherwise.

Morisuke stared at the person who sat across him, noting the traces of hurt that remained in his expression. He wanted to fix it, make sure that he would never pull that face again.

Yaku Morisuke knew that he felt things too much and too strongly. He wore his heart on his sleeve. That was why Nekoma called him ‘team mom’ yet referred to him as ‘demon-senpai’ in the same breath.

This was why, when the idea to support travel expenses came to mind, he pounced at the opportunity and refused to waver.

* * *

If he was told earlier that day that he would be temporarily rooming with Nishinoya by the end of it, he would’ve definitely dismissed the thought. 

But now, after getting better acquainted with the other boy, he had learned well enough that surprises should always be taken into account when it concerned Nishinoya Yuu.

He unlocked the door, swung it open and turned on the lights, belatedly grateful that his apartment was presentable enough, thanks to his decent cleaning habits.

“Dang, you’ve got a nice place here, Morisuke-kun!” Nishinoya exclaimed.

Morisuke grinned appreciatively. “I know, right?”

He then proceeded to lean lazily against the wall. Having gone from the chilling outside world to his insulated apartment meant that his mind started to feel fuzzy again. He closed his eyes, willing himself to remember how to be a good host, but any instance of coherence eluded him at the moment.

Then he hears the muffled sound of something heavy hitting something soft.

Well, that sure woke him up a little, the same couldn’t be said for the body that was slumped on his sofa though. At least he had enough sense to take off his backpack.

Reaching over, he patted Nishinoya’s cheek repeatedly.

“Hey, wake up. You gotta sleep on a proper bed.”

“M’fine,” he mumbled, already half-asleep.

Despite being a little tipsy, or maybe because of it, Morisuke refused to let his guest sleep on the couch when there was a perfectly serviceable bed available. If Nishinoya wasn’t hauling his butt over to the guest bed, then Morisuke would haul it for him instead.

Not wanting to interrupt the sleeping boy too much, he opted to carry him, hooking one arm just above the other’s waist and another near the back of the knees. 

He smiled a little, proud of himself for the strength he accumulated. Nishinoya hadn’t grown much since he last saw him, probably around the same height that Hinata was at the start of high school. His shoulders were a bit broader though and there was a bit of muscle too, even if it was softer due to lack of regiment. 

His thoughts caught up to him and Morisuke frowned, confused.

Wait, how did he know the muscles were soft?

He probably shouldn’t squeeze them like that.

Having decided that he should be getting to bed as well, he hastened his pace, dropping Nishinoya off at the guest room, throwing a blanket over him and turning on the heater. When he was satisfied with his hostly obligations, Morisuke gently closed the door as Nishinoya began to snore peacefully, and began his bedtime routine.

  
*  
  


He woke up to the nice smell of something cooking.

After a brief moment of confusion, the events of last night slowly flooded his mind, bringing a horrible headache along with it.

Morisuke groaned.

It was his league team’s final day of practice. 

The season had started earlier to accommodate anyone who would be playing in the Olympics, so they don’t really have any upcoming matches. Their coach just wanted to ensure that his players remained at the top of their game. The training was especially intensive on the final day, meant to etch volleyball into their bones and burn its movements into their muscles, enough to tide them over until their next practice.

Probably not the best time for a hangover.

Dragging himself out of bed, he made his way to the bathroom to wash his face, took some painkillers, then made a beeline en route for the kitchen.

There was someone there, and they were making pancakes.

Morisuke cleared his throat to announce his presence.

They turned to him.

“Cool, you’re up!” Nishinoya’s eyes lit up with a smile. “G'morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, relief tinged his voice, “I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair down, had me worried for a second there.”

“Hah, yeah, I get that a lot.” Nishinoya huffed, offering a small smile, “How many of these bad boys do you want?” he asked, wiggling a newly-empty frying pan for emphasis.

Stacked up on a plate at the counter were six pancakes, a beautiful shade of golden brown. Three pancakes each would be sufficient enough for the two of them, yet Nishinoya appeared to be implying that he would make more.

Nishinoya followed his gaze to the stack at the counter, intuiting the unasked question that was on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, those? Those are all for me.”

Morisuke stared at him incredulously.

“I eat a lot,” he explained, though it didn’t really clear up much of anything.

An old memory of a conversation he overheard at training camp between the Karasuno libero and his glasses-wearing junior came to mind.

_Oi, Tsukishima! Eat up or you won’t last!_

_Wow, Nishinoya-san, at least your appetite is big._

He didn’t know how true those words rang until that moment.

“Three is fine.”

Nishinoya nodded and went to work with measuring and mixing the ingredients, though not before topping his tower with a generous amount of butter and syrup. This caused Morisuke, who was preparing his daily dose of piping hot black coffee, to pause.

“Those are gonna get cold before you’re done. You should probably eat them first,” he pointed out.

“Nah, I’m good.” To demonstrate the validity of his statement, he poured the pancake batter on the frying pan with one hand and cut his pancakes with the other, stabbing the pieces and shoving them into his mouth, maintaining a sturdy grip on the pan handle the entire time.

“Schee?” he garbled through full cheeks.

Morisuke sensed the stirrings of laughter in his throat from the ridiculous, yet impressive, sight, though it was quickly cut short by the sudden hammering of his hangover headache. The painkillers he took offered a fair bit of consolation, though he still needed to ensure that he didn’t make any big or sudden movements with his head. He resigned himself to sipping his coffee at the dining table and observing Nishinoya’s multi-tasking effort. 

He was almost halfway-done with the stack.

To describe Nishinoya Yuu as having ‘a big appetite’ would be an understatement. He would even go as far as to call it ‘ravenous’.

It wasn’t only in regards to food either. 

His appetite for adventure, for hoarding experiences, was on a completely different level than most people. 

Sure, Hinata spent two years in Brazil just to hone his skill at the beaches of Rio De Janeiro but he, like Morisuke, was a volleyball idiot. The drive to grow and adapt to new environments for the sport that consumed their lives was understandable.

Nishinoya, on the other hand, took this idea and ran a marathon with it. 

Never rooted in one spot, feet never planted on the ground, always looking for a challenge to overcome, always coming out stronger by the end of it and then running off to find the next one, never stopping and staying for any of them.

Not even volleyball, apparently.

This unbridled and unrelenting hunger for improvement had left a chill running down his spine ever since their first meeting. The Karasuno libero’s appetite manifested a large presence that threatened to swallow him whole. He was scared of him then, and he was still scared of him now.

Although seeing Nishinoya attempt to balance a plate of Morisuke’s freshly-made pancakes on his left and his own precarious pile of partially-eaten ones on his right had definitely softened him somewhat.

He arrived at the table without accident and set them down.

“ _Bon appétit!_ ” he said with a grin.

Stifling his own one into a smirk, Morisuke responded, “Your travels have made you worldly, I see.”

A dangerous gleam appeared in Nishinoya’s smiling eyes as he stabbed into his breakfast with a fork.

“Not enough, yet.”

There was that thrill again. 

Morisuke busied himself with the butter before he allowed himself to continue.

“So, do you usually break into your host’s food supply to ambush them with breakfast or am I just that special?” he ribbed.

“No fair! It was meant to be a nice surprise!” Nishinoya exclaimed, face reddening. “After having to search through your cupboards for flour too... I’m taking those back!”

He made a grab for the plate but Morisuke was quick enough to move it out of his reach.

“No way! These are good. Just, let me know somehow. Boundaries and all that.”

Nishinoya’s eyes widened, as if in realization.

“Oh yeah, my bad, didn’t think about how that might come across.”

He sat back down and they resumed their meal in relative silence, with only the slight sounds of silverware scraping against the ceramic plates.

“It’s not just for anyone by the way,” he belatedly answered, “I do it for friends.”

A smile tugged Morisuke’s lips at that.

The atmosphere lightened up again and he breathed a little easier.

“What adventures are you planning on having today?” he asked.

“All of them.” Nishinoya flashed him a mischievous grin. “Care to join me?” 

“Sorry, got practice a little later today,” he replied regretfully, “I’ll be back around 5 or 6 but I’d probably be too tired to do anything after.”

The other boy’s face fell and his gut wrenched.

Now that wouldn’t do at all. He refused to be an unremarkable event in this adventure.

“I’m buying souvenirs tomorrow though if you wanna come with?” he suggested, “We could take a walk by the Iset River to see the giant keyboard afterwards.”

Nishinoya’s face softened, turning into something more thoughtful. He hummed pensively.

“What?” Morisuke asked, disconcerted by the unusual behaviour.

“That’s kinda tame,” he answered bluntly, in usual fashion.

“Hey! This final practice is just that exhausting okay?” he countered, making an effort to maintain his affronted tone without it being cheapened by his relief, “Plus, you don’t have to come with me. You can just go off on your own, like today.”

“I never said no!” Nishinoya crossed his arms. “I like having company, so I still wanna hang out with you, even though you act like an old man.”

“I’m only a year older than you!” Morisuke responded as he slammed his fists down the table, indignant.

“So? I said ‘act’ didn’t I?” was the calm response.

He did have a point, Morisuke loved hiking, so souvenir shopping and strolling by a river was definitely less adventurous than what would be expected, not that the other boy would’ve known that about him. Tomorrow was going to be a leisurely one though, he wouldn’t budge on that. He ran his fingers through his messy hair while he thought.

“How about the day after tomorrow?” he compromised, “got anything you’d wanna do then? I leave for Japan in the evening though.”

To this, Nishinoya nodded enthusiastically, excitement animated his features.

“Let’s go ice fishing! I always wanted to try it out.”

Fishing for marlins in Italy had left quite the impact on him, it turned out. Last night, he remembered the traveller excitedly showing a picture of him holding a marlin that was nearly as long as he was tall, beaming proudly. Ice fishing, or fishing in general, required a lot of patience, which wasn’t what most would expect from the boy with the blond streak. But Morisuke knew better. The quiet, slow-burning fire from his libero days had manifested in other ways off-court. Maybe it would even keep him warm in the late winter.

“Sure,” he agreed. “We should be early though, best times for fishing are dusk and dawn. We’ll go with dawn since I don’t want to miss my flight-” he paused. “-if that’s alright with you?”

“It’s all good, I’m an early-riser anyways.” he assured him, waving his hand dismissively.

He did wake up earlier than Morisuke did, even having the time to wash the gel off his hair and make breakfast. It was then that he noticed that his drinking buddy didn’t show any signs of feeling the effects of last night at all and pointed it out.

“How come you don’t look like a garbage fire?” he asked, envy and resentment apparent in his voice. It might be unfair to hold it against Nishinoya, but it was even more unfair that he was going to suffer alone.

The shorter boy smirked cockily, apparently knowing the outrage that his statement would incite. 

“I just don’t get hangovers.”

Before Morisuke could respond accordingly, a blaring sound erupted from his phone, signalling him that it was time to get ready for practice. The sudden nature caught him off-guard and caused his displeasure to dissipate.

“Shit.” He turned off his phone. The noise from the alarm was slowly causing his headache to come back, he could feel the dull thrumming between his ears.

“Sorry, I gotta go, but we should be good for tomorrow and after, yeah?”

Nishinoya’s eyes were wide, also startled by the sudden interruption. “Oh, uh, sure.”

Good enough.

* * *

Being an excellent gift-giver was always a point of pride for him, the ability to read someone well enough to know what they would like was a challenge that he enjoyed tackling. If not for the people that he cared for, then for himself.

“This is the last one.”

The shorter boy whistled, eyebrows raised. “A jewelry store? Got someone special in Tokyo, Morisuke-kun?”

Something snagged in his throat at that question but he cleared it out with a laugh, opening the door and stepping inside.

“Nah, just a friend who likes shiny things.”

Owing to Yekaterinburg’s proximity to the mineral-rich Ural Mountains, the shop sold plenty of accessories made from semi-precious stones, carved and polished through the traditional hidden techniques of the Ural people. Light hit the stones on display, painting faint glimmers with various shades. 

He made his way to a section that held the most shades of green, catching his eye on a pair of emerald earrings. They were teardrop-shaped, connected to silver cuffs. Elegant in simplicity, but flashy enough. That should do it.

“So, who’s it for?” Nishinoya’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“An annoying half-Russian giant.” He held up the earrings so his shopping buddy could see them better. “See? Goes with his eyes and hair.”

There was an odd expression in the other boy’s face that he couldn’t quite place. “It’s a bit different from what you got for the others,” he said, voice slightly flat.

“I guess so? It just didn’t feel like the others would be super-interested in this kind of thing.” He mused, proceeding to the counter to make his purchase. “Besides, it’s a bit of a congratulatory gift, too.”

Whatever clouded Nishinoya’s features went away after this statement, replaced with light curiosity. 

“Congratulations for what?” he asked.

Morisuke bit back a cackle at the memory, then held up a finger to signal to him to wait while he talked to the cashier. Money and pleasantries were exchanged, then he placed the small gift bag inside a larger one that contained the other presents. 

“So Lev followed his sister’s footsteps and became a model, right?” he began.

“Did not know that, but he does have the look for it,” Noya stated, “and the height.” He added with a sour look, earning a bitter snicker from Morisuke.

“Anyway, a little while ago they both got a modelling gig for this perfume company and guess what?” He paused for dramatic effect and let a grin spread across his face. “Their faces are plastered at the side of the ‘MAGNET by Shibuya 109’ building.”

“A giant spot in the world’s most popular crossing, huh? That is pretty big.”

“We’ll see just how big it is in person, or I will, anyway.” He nodded determinedly. “Even told them not to show me any pictures, can’t cheapen the first impression.”

Nishinoya chuckled softly at that.

“You really care about your friends a lot, don’t you, Morisuke-kun?”

“Of course, however infuriating they may be.” he answered frankly, not one to mince words, but still ensuring to retain a certain bite.

The door to a bakery swung open as they passed by, hitting them with a burst of warm air and an inviting smell that promised food on the other end. A poster was stuck on the glass at the storefront advertising its bestselling _pirozhki_.

Sharing a look, Morisuke and Nishinoya walked briskly towards the bakery.

They emerge with two paper bags, one each, of freshly baked _pirozhki_ , cabbage for him and beef for Noya. 

He bit into one, relishing the way that the flaky crust yielded in his mouth, giving way to the airy texture of the dough underneath, along with the hot and delicious filling that was cushioned in the middle. 

He swallowed, feeling the comforting heat slide down his throat and settle nicely in his stomach, then looking over to his companion.

Seeing the way that his cheeks puffed, Morisuke gathered that Nishinoya had stuffed his mouth, only to regret his decision when he realized that the filling was too hot. Puffs of steam emanated from his mouth as he chewed frantically, refusing to spit it out.

Morisuke snickered at the sight. “Are you alright there?”

Nishinoya nodded, eyebrows scrunched in an unyielding manner.

His eyes were watery.

Sighing good-naturedly, he steered the other boy in the direction of a nearby bench. He set down the bags he was carrying and fished out a water bottle, handing it over to Nishinoya, who was all too happy to accept. Taking a huge swig of water, Nishinoya swished it around briefly to cool any burning in his mouth, then gulped.

“Thanks!” he beamed, a flash of brightness that left Morisuke’s chest feeling a bit tight. “Where to next?”

“It’s a 15-minute walk from here to the keyboard monument,” he replied a little hastily, “if you’re still up for it after nearly dying from _pirozhki_.”

Noya shoved his shoulder lightly. “Of course I am!” He moved away from the bench, picking up the bags as he did so. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, after all.” He sank his teeth into another _pirozhok_ to prove his point.

“Fair enough.” He followed him, chuckling lightly.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t laughed as much this past year as much as he had in his brief time with Nishinoya. It reminded him of coming home to Japan, to friends and family. 

Not to say that life in Russia was horrible to him, just that the chaotic nature of his environment in Japan had ruined him for the more reserved dispositions of his current team. 

There was no one to keep in line with a knee to the back, no obnoxious hoots and hollers, and no incredulous words or actions that made him laugh at the spontaneity.

That last part being a quality that Nishinoya Yuu had in spades.

“Do you still talk to your old team?” Morisuke asked, cutting through the amiable silence.

“Only started recently, actually,” he answered, “Asahi, Ryuu, Kiyoko and Hisashi were the only ones I told directly when I left. Chikara and Kazuhito knew that I planned to, but not when I actually set off.”

A soft smile appeared on his face and his eyes were fond. “Suga-san and Dai-san gave me an earful when I got back, something about having too much ‘zip’.” His expression turned more melancholic. “Didn’t even know about Shoyo being in Brazil, or Kageyama in Italy. I’m planning on stopping by some time though, not now, obviously.”

Morisuke stopped mid-chew, replaying the words back in his head. “So you’re not coming to watch the Tokyo Olympics?”

“Heck no.” Nishinoya huffed. “Tickets are nearly impossible to get, and super expensive to boot. If I’m watching through a screen anyways, I can just do it anytime.”

“Still, it’d be around five months from now,” Morisuke interjected, “at least seeing your friends would be nice. Kageyama and Hinata would be in one spot, too.”

“Well I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” The shorter boy chewed thoughtfully. “I made a promise to Asahi.”

“Hm? What’s it about?” he paused, hoping that the innocuous question didn’t lead to a damper in their conversation like last time. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m taking him on a whirlwind tour around the world!” Nishinoya exclaimed, raising his arms up in the air and spreading them out, a completely different effect from the similar situation last night.

A puff of laughter left his lips in relief and awe. “Gonna try and rope him in, huh?” He’s reminded of the traveller’s earlier statement. “Are you sure you’re not the one who has someone special in Tokyo?”

“It’s not like that.” Nishinoya dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. “We did try it out after high school, but things just didn’t feel different with him. The good ‘different’, I mean.”

The ease and nonchalant nature of his delivery assured Morisuke that there were no negative feelings harboured in his words. He folded the now-empty paper bag and tucked it into a pocket in his coat to put away for when he found a garbage can.

“It was actually his idea, you know?” Nishinoya continued, “called me up one day to tell me that he ‘has reached a point in his career where he has secured a comfortable position and sufficient funds’ and that he ‘wants to travel around the world to glean inspiration for his next clothing line’ and I agreed.”

“Is this really the same glass-hearted ace I remember from high school?” Morisuke pondered out loud, disbelieving. He recalled his last memory of Asahi, it was after Karasuno’s final match, they had put up such a good fight. With face still red and eyes still hot from his hug with Suga, he gripped the ace’s hand tightly, never breaking eye contact. _Good game,_ he told him assuredly.

“He certainly loosened up,” Nishinoya agreed, “we’ll travel on our own and meet at the North Pole in September, then I’ll take him on an around-the-world tour all the way back to Japan!”

“If you’re going back to Japan anyways, then couldn’t you just adjust the time frame to match the Olympics in August?” he proposed. “Aren’t you guys a little bit curious about how your juniors might fare?”

Karasuno’s former libero shrugged. “They’ll be okay without me. I haven’t been their guardian deity for a while now. Asahi stopped being the ace for longer.” 

The tender expression he sported from reminiscing hardened into a more resolute one. “Learning more about the world, experiencing things I haven’t seen or done before, that’s my freedom. Volleyball is theirs. As long as I know that, I’m satisfied.”

There was something about Nishinoya that he couldn’t quite separate from volleyball. Memories of bruise-littered limbs similar to his, sharp eyes and reflexes that led to miracle saves, and the control he exhibited from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, no doubt a part of the Monster Generation that Morisuke and the rest of the current Olympic national team belonged in. Yet despite it all, he picks the globe instead of the volleyball court, becoming a monster-turned-human of sorts.

“Besides, they’ve got you, after all.”

That last phrase rang in his ears and tugged at his heartstrings. Coupled with the brazen, matter-of-fact tone that Nishinoya assumed when he uttered it, Morisuke felt like his face was burning despite the cold. It was fine when he said it about himself, but hearing it from someone else, especially someone like Nishinoya, was different.

A good ‘different’.

Turning away to hide his flustered state, he thanked him and directed his attention towards the river. It was nearly spring and the layer of ice above it had thinned to the point that you could see the running water underneath if you looked closely. Golden rays from the approaching sunset interacted with the ice and water to create a glimmering effect that danced brilliantly. He looked up and spotted that they were nearing their destination already. They must have gotten there at a lull point in the day, considering that there wasn’t anyone nearby.

Arm outstretched, he pointed towards it. “There it is.”

“Cool!” Nishinoya responded, then paused. “What do you do with it?”

“They say that if you type your wish on it, then it will come true.” Morisuke informed him.

“You first, then.” The other boy prompted, shoving him lightly in the direction of the monument.

Complying with his request, Morisuke approached the keyboard and appraised the keys, noting the symbols etched into them.

“English or Russian?” An easy smirk bloomed on his face. “I’m good either way.”

“As expected of a world-class libero,” Nishinoya commented with a good-natured sigh, crossing his arms, “gonna have to pick English, had more practice with that one.”

Feet alternating between the stone keys and the narrow grassy space between them, he made brisk work of the typing, trusting that the other boy’s eyes were observant enough to follow.

_‘I wish to continue destroying the enemies’ spirits with my receives’_

He pressed the ‘Enter’ key, sending his wish to whatever system was taking them.

After confirming what he saw, Nishinoya fixed him a questioning stare.

“Why not wish to win the Olympics?” he inquired.

“It’s just a bit of extra help, we’ll get the rest of the way ourselves,” Morisuke explained, “this way, it lasts past the Olympics too.”

“Wouldn’t that mean that the wish is weaker since it’s stretched out for longer?”

“Don’t see why it should.” He shrugged and stepped off the stone. “It’s a wish-granting keyboard connected to nowhere, not really much logic there.”

“Works for me,” was all Nishinoya said before excitedly racing to the monument.

Similar to Morisuke’s attempt, he nimbly glided from key to key, also similar was the ease that Morisuke could follow his feet even in its sprightly pace.

 _‘I wish to live freely for the rest of my life’_

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at its predictability and straightforwardness and was about to comment on it when Nishinoya stepped off the ‘Enter’ key and made a beeline to approach another letter. He was typing out something again.

“What are you doing?”

“Making another wish.”

“Is that allowed?”

“You said it yourself, _‘it’s a wish-granting keyboard connected to nowhere, not really much logic there’_.” Noya recalled, punctuating his sentence with his feet on the ‘Enter’ key once again.

That can’t be right, he thought as he ran through the letters he saw in his head.

“What was that one? I got distracted by our conversation,” he told him.

As nonchalantly as ever, the shorter boy replied with the words he was sure he had mistaken.

“I wish to cross paths with Morisuke again.”

Now that one wasn’t predictable at all.

Did Nishinoya’s face turn a tad redder or was it just the colors of the sunset painting it to look like that?

“I’ve been having the best time travelling around the world again, but these past few days have really been… something. You’re an amazing person and I’d like to hang out with you more.”

Unlike previous occurrences, the heat he felt on his face subsided instead of worsened, those words striking a different chord in him. Both of them were chasing their different dreams, dreams that created a degree of separation between them and where they came from. But in this instance where their paths crossed, they found comfort in the familiarity.

“If eating out and coming with me on my errands was ‘something’ then I’m sure actually travelling with Asahi would be even better,” he responded with a smile.

The other boy beamed back, and Morisuke couldn’t help but feel a bit warm in the face of its radiance.

He shook his head, bringing his thoughts to focus once more.

“Get off from there,” he barked at the dark-haired boy, lacking a bite to his words, “I want more wishes too!”

Nishinoya let out a puff of laughter. “Weren’t you the one saying that it wouldn’t work?”

“Weren’t you the one saying it’s worth a shot?” Morisuke retorted, sticking his tongue out, and began to approach the keyboard once more, trying to think of what he’d wish for next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Like Noya, I do not get hangovers. I have friends who do though, so I just loosely based Yaku on them.
> 
> 2\. Nishinoya's the third biggest eater in the series, only after Daichi and Kamasaki. In contrast, Tsukishima is the third smallest eater, coming after Tendou and Kenma. I just thought that was a neat fact.
> 
> 3\. Is it obvious that Nishinoya's one of my favorites?
> 
> 4\. I've only had pirozhki once but I had a sudden craving for them while writing and that is mainly the reason why they're there. 'Pirozhok' is the singular term and 'pirozhki' is the plural one.
> 
> Until next week, hopefully!
> 
> Feel free to talk to me at Tumblr + Twitter @skellyjingles


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